


Scraps

by alistairweekend



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Pre-Dragon Age: Origins, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 17:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3455837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alistairweekend/pseuds/alistairweekend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A gift for my wonderful friend <a href="http://mistressquickly.tumblr.com">mistress-quickly</a> of her Lior Surana and Niall. Takes place in an alternate universe where an Amell becomes the Grey Warden while Lior and Niall escape the tower together later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scraps

Lior had a problem with thinking things through. It usually wasn’t a big deal, maybe getting her a disapproving frown or, worst case scenario, time for scrubbing the floors of the Tower. Besides, the actions she carried out didn’t hold much weight to them — harmless pranks that just annoyed her superiors.

But she’d messed up this time.

It had been a straightforward chain of events: Anders had been put in solitary confinement, a testimony to how fed up the templars were with trying to track him down after his escape attempts. Lior wasn’t about to let Anders endure a year of silence, so she began sneaking down to see him. She was caught. So the logical course of action was to get put into solitary confinement as well, because that way she’d get to keep Anders company.

The crucial detail she’d failed to take note of was that they meant what they said when it came to _solitary confinement_. Anders was nowhere to be seen.

For the first few days, Lior’s main complaint was boredom. But the longer she sat in the dark little room, the more it sank in that she was  _stuck_  there. No one was coming to get her in a few hours. This wasn’t some dare of how long she could stay by herself. She was going to be there for a very, very long time.

There was a moment when she broke down. Her heart pounded in her chest and sobs racked her body, unrelenting and merciless until she felt she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t know how long it lasted. It didn’t matter.

***

Her food came in through a small slot in the bottom of the cell door. It was the most exciting part of Lior’s days, when she got her food, even if it wasn’t a meal to marvel at.

She was counting the specks of dust outlined by the sliver of light that was allowed into the room when her rations came one day. If her counting was correct, it was the tenth day. The tray held the usual: a biscuit, a small bowl of soup, likely the leftovers from that day’s dinner up in the main floors of the Tower.

Lior was considering whether or not she would get in trouble for keeping the spoon when a small piece of parchment caught her eye, underneath the bowl. Brow furrowing, she took it and unfolded it.  _Surana_ , it said in a lazy, loopy script she recognized. Niall.

Her heart nearly burst out from her chest. It was all too easy to think that everyone had forgotten about her, especially considering her pitiful number of actual friends. This small acknowledgment was overwhelming.

The scrap of paper crinkled softly as her grip on it tightened, holding it to her chest and taking a deep breath.

Curious that it was Niall of all people. Lior had thought he would have been glad to be rid of her — they had met on accident several years ago when he bumped into her and Anders during one of their many escape attempts. Without bothering to ask if he would keep their plans a secret, the two decided Niall was coming along, whether he liked it or not.

That escapade had been unsuccessful. But when Lior went to apologize to Niall, she found the older apprentice’s apparent apathy towards nearly everything intriguing. Before either of them knew it, Lior made regular stops to Niall’s corner of the study hall, breathlessly announcing what outrageous acts she had just performed and more often than not yanking Niall behind a bookcase with her when the templars came shouting for her.

Niall must have somehow convinced the templars to assign him to deliver Lior’s food. In any other scenario, she would have laughed and teased him.  _“Aww, you_ do _care!”_  But sitting there in her dark cell, she was simply and utterly grateful.

***

Lior sang sometimes, when counting dust and cracks in the walls got unbearable. She didn’t know if she was any good at it, but she didn’t care. No one could hear her, anyways.

Well, probably. Sometimes her food would come during one of her songs.

One day, the note read  _I like your singing._

***

Niall started giving her extra parchment and a stick of charcoal with her meals, so she could either reply to his messages or use it to alleviate her boredom. Her first reply was a scrap completely covered with just two words:  _thank you._

His reply was belated, and Lior worried — had her note been discovered by someone? Was Niall in trouble?

But it eventually came, and it simply said,  _Don’t mention it, Surana._  On the other side of the paper:  _Really, don’t. The templars will have my hide if you do._

She laughed at that.

***

Lior kept many of Niall’s notes, to read on her bad days. The floor of the cell was getting clustered with scraps of paper. Vaguely Lior wondered what she would do with them all once she got out. But that seemed an impossible amount of time away, so she didn’t worry about it. If she got in trouble all over again for having correspondence during confinement, so be it. She’d do it all over again if she could.

Not only did Niall promise to let Anders know what had happened to Lior, he kept her updated on the happenings in the tower, upon her request. She wasn’t entirely sure why she cared, but it was nice to know that life still went on in the Circle while she was gone. Niall hadn’t been keen on it at first, though:  _If people notice me paying attention to them they’ll think I’m some sort of gossip. My reputation will be ruined._

_You have a reputation?_

_That’s beside the point._

_You’re an ass._

_Don’t you know any manners?_

She drew a face with a tongue sticking out. _Please?_

_Fine. For you, Surana._

***

Despite her witty and teasing responses to Niall’s messages, Lior was having a hard time. And it was only getting worse as time passed.

She hadn’t heard a person’s voice aside from her own for who knew how long, and the fact disturbed her. Sleep became hard. There was no escaping her nightmares. They weren’t normal nightmares, either; they were twisted and haunting, causing her to shiver uncontrollably when she woke up even though she could never remember exactly what they had entailed.

One day she crouched by her door, waiting for her food to be slid under. When the little hatch opened and the tray made it in, she thrust her hand through the opening before it closed and gripped the hand on the other side. It tensed in surprise and there was an awful moment of uncertainty on Lior’s part —  _what if it’s not him today what if I just grabbed a templar’s hand_  — then it relaxed and shifted so it could return the hold. Lior felt tears burn behind her eyes at the contact.

They sat like that for a while. Lior closed her eyes and pretended her wrist wasn’t at such an awkward angle, that she was in the library studying and just happened to be holding Niall’s hand. She didn’t want to let go, ever.

Niall’s hand tightened around hers, a signal that he had to go. But Lior squeezed back and didn’t loosen her grasp, desperate for the moment to last even a tiny bit longer. He didn’t leave, and she could imagine his pained frown. Or could she? Did she even remember what his face looked like?

Her hand still clutched his when she heard it, the whisper so faint she might have imagined it. “Lior.”

It was the first time Niall had spoken her first name. His hand squeezed hers again, then gently pulled away.

The tears came, heavy and unstoppable.

***

_Your time’s almost up. There’s only a few days left, they’ll let you out then._

Lior read the note over and over, scarcely believing it. Her reply, however, was sharp as always:  _You’d better be there when that door opens._

The response surprised her — no jest or taunt.  _I will be._

***

Today was the day. Lior could feel it.

She sat across from the door to her tiny room, staring at it intently. At the last minute, she had realized that she had better do something with all the paper, lest she be punished even more for disobeying the rules of confinement. So she shoved them all down the hole meant for relieving oneself, only keeping a special select few on her person, those of which she hid within her robes.

At last, the door opened. Lior had never been so happy to see a templar’s helmet before (although the joy didn’t last long). Her heart swelled as a refreshing gust of air swept in, and she shakily got up and walked forward.

In the hallway, Niall waited. Lior stood in the doorway, taking in the sight of him for a moment. Had his face changed, or was it just her? If it had, she didn’t care. She liked this Niall, new or not. She liked him a whole lot.

“So you do care.” Lior meant for it be a teasing remark, but her voice cracked as she said it, the weight of the fact that she was  _finally out_  hitting her. Niall shrugged noncommittally, but there was emotion in his eyes, and that was what did it for Lior. She rushed into his arms and bawled her eyes out.

Niall wasn’t quite sure what to do, but he embraced her in return and took a long breath. “All right,” he said after some time had passed. “Let’s get you back up there with everyone else.”

Lior nodded, and they ascended the stairs together, hand-in-hand.


End file.
